


Pretty Waiter

by crankyjones



Series: Tyrus Month 2018 [9]
Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Day 16, M/M, Tyrus Month 2018, Tyrus Week 2018, Waiter!Cyrus, Writer!TJ, the spoon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-03 12:15:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15818685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crankyjones/pseuds/crankyjones
Summary: TJ tries to write his novel at the Spoon but the waiter is way too pretty.





	1. Novel, Coffee & Tip

**Author's Note:**

> OK THIS SUCKS SO SO MUCH I'M SORRY  
> written for day 16 of tyrus month :)  
> it's an alternate universe, the characters are both legal! tj is a writer and cyrus is a waiter at the spoon  
> xxx

TJ yawned in the least graceful way possible as he entered the Spoon. He had spent the whole previous night writing his novel which he had to send to the publishing-house in a week. He was in a desperate need of coffee, but his machine broke yesterday. Luckily, the Spoon was only a few streets away from his flat. And he could even order some baby taters; he was starving and hadn’t eaten any for years.

TJ sat down on an empty seat, putting his bag next to him and took out his notebook and a pen. He needed to get the first draft of this book done in only a few days and he was really late. He had no time for anything else. The black ink of the pen marked the title of the thirty-sixth chapter on the paper. He was about to continue the story where he left it earlier but a low voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Good morning, sir. What can I serve you?”  
“Hi, I’d like a…”

TJ’s voice faded as he looked up at the guy. He was _stunning_. It was like his beauty hit him so hard he couldn’t figure out how to speak. A few strands of his hair were falling on his forehead since he was looking down at his own little notebook where he was probably writing down the orders. His teeth were biting his lower lip, slowly chewing it. His cheeks and his nose wore a light red colour that contrasted with the deep brown of his eyes.

“Sir?”  
How was it humanly possible to have such a sweet voice? It sounded like a melody to TJ’s ears. The brunet looked up at him and his lips parted as his cheeks reddened.  
“Uh, sorry. I’d like a coffee and a bowl of baby taters, please.” TJ put an awkward smile on his face, hoping the waiter wouldn’t notice how much he was affecting him.  
“Okay. Your order will be served in a few minutes.”  
After a quick polite smile, the boy turned around and headed toward the counter.

A shaky breath escaped TJ’s mouth as he put his eyes on the blank page of his notebook without really looking at it. The moment he spent with the waiter kept on replaying in his head, over and over. What did just happen exactly? It was like that guy hypnotised him just by standing in front of him. That was plainly ridiculous.  
“Pull yourself together, TJ,” the writer muttered through his teeth.  
But he was so pretty.

TJ couldn’t say if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but the waiter who brought him what he ordered along with the bill was the same brunet as earlier. He didn’t have the time to say a small ‘thank you’ that he already left. Every now and then, between two paragraphs or two sips of coffee, TJ looked up and stare at the boy who was constantly roaming the Spoon to take the customers’ orders. And, sometimes, their eyes met and stayed locked for a few seconds. He had completely forgotten about what he was writing. He could write about that boy and he wouldn’t even notice it. He was just so beautiful. TJ couldn’t bring himself to look away—no matter how many times he told himself how creepy that was.

Time passed and, soon enough, TJ’s cup was empty, and so was his bowl. His eyes followed the brunet go to what seemed like the back room of the Spoon. _No! Come back!_ A subtle sigh escaped his lips and he looked down at his notebook. He barely wrote two pages. Another sigh. He needed to go home and get to work. And for real, this time. But the brunet… It was like some bizarre strength was forcing him to stay close to him. He _needed_ to talk to him. If he left now, they would probably never meet again and TJ would regret it his entire life.  
What could he do?

He took a second to think about the situation and the different alternatives until the answer popped in his head. TJ took a deep breath and ripped a little piece of paper from his notebook. His hand scribbled numbers on it and put it under his cup where he also slipped ten dollars. At least fifty percent of it was a tip, but it didn’t matter. The brunet was worth it.

TJ got up as he packed his supplies. After one last glance at the paper where he just wrote his phone number, he exited the Spoon.  
Now, it was up to the pretty waiter.


	2. Texts, Strawberries & Cigarettes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pretty waiter ends up texting TJ.  
> You could say their first date went well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 2! finally :,)  
> written for day 22 (+ day 13) of tyrus month 2018  
> hope you liked it!!
> 
> (and yep i got inspired by strawberries & cigarettes by troye)

When TJ woke up that morning, he _really_ didn’t expect to see that text. It had been a week already since he gave the pretty waiter his number, he completely lost hope to hear from him but here it was: a text from him.

From Unknown: _**Hey, you. I don’t know if you remember me, but I work at the Spoon and you may or may not have given me your number. I hesitated for a while to text you but yeah, here I am. Hope you have a good day (: Xx Cyrus (aka the Spoon Waiter)**_

Cyrus… Of course he remembered him. How could he even forget about him? The guy haunted his dreams for days. All because of that lovely face of his. It probably sounded negative, but it really helped him. He managed to finish the first draft of his novel! TJ couldn’t tell if it was thanks to that Cyrus or just thanks to inspiration, but his publicist seemed happy and he was also happy with it, so he guessed it didn’t matter much. He even got another idea for an upcoming project: the story of a random guy who always comes to that one coffee-shop just to see the pretty waiter he’s in love with. If that wasn’t obvious enough, it was based on TJ’s own experiences. Except he didn’t dare to come back to the Spoon and he was not in love with that Cyrus guy.  
But maybe he could be. He had all his chances now that he texted him. If he did it, it was most likely because he was interested as well, right? 

To Cyrus The Pretty Waiter: _**Hey, Cyrus. Of course I remember you! I’m really glad you texted me, I was beginning to lose hope. Why would you hesitate? I don’t bite (: Xx TJ (aka the awkward guy who gave you his number)**_

When TJ hit ‘send’, he felt his heart pounding against his chest. What if he was not interested and just wanted to befriend him? Maybe he was straight. Maybe he figured he was straight and just wanted to befriend him. TJ didn’t really have hundreds of options to find out. He couldn’t just ask him if he was into boys, could he?

From Cyrus The Pretty Waiter: _**You’re not awkward!! I’m awkward though. I mean, I didn’t even dare looking at you the other time. And I hesitated because I wasn’t sure if we wanted the same thing. I’m still not, actually, but I wanted to give it a shot anyway.**_

Yep, he definitely wasn’t into guys. He knew TJ didn’t want to be just friends with him, and Cyrus didn’t want that. The writer should’ve known a guy that pretty would be straight. It always happened. _Always._  
But his phone buzzed again before he could think of an answer.

From Cyrus The Pretty Waiter: _**Look, I think you’re pretty. Like really pretty. And I understand if that’s not what you wanted to happen when you gave me your number.**_

TJ almost let out a scream. That boy was so oblivious, that was so cute. Did people even give their number to someone just to be their friend? And, also: he thought he was pretty. He could swear his cheeks were reddening.

To Cyrus The Pretty Waiter: _**Wow. Uh, thank you? I’m? You’re so pretty and I thought you were too pretty to not be straight. Turns out I was wrong. And it’s a good thing. That I was wrong, I mean.**_  
To Cyrus The Pretty Waiter: _**See I’m awkward!!**_  
From Cyrus The Pretty Waiter: _**I think we’re both awkward. Want to confirm the theory by perhaps going on a date with me?**_

This time, TJ couldn’t hold back a little scream. He almost let his phone fall from his hands. Luckily, it didn’t. Otherwise, he couldn’t even text the pretty waiter anymore and he would’ve never been able to find out if they were going to get married. (Okay, maybe he was a little overreacting. Maybe.)

To Cyrus The Pretty Waiter: _**A date you say? That sounds interesting.**_

He found it almost ironic how calm and confident he sounded when a screen was standing between him and Cyrus. He was more like a pre-teen girl who just found out his crush was single again.

From Cyrus The Pretty Waiter: _**I may have an idea in mind. What do you say about meeting me at the Spoon tomorrow morning, after my shift, around 12:30?**_  
To Cyrus The Pretty Waiter: _**I say it’s great (; I’ll be there.**_  
From Cyrus The Pretty Waiter: _**Great then (: I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?**_  
To Cyrus The Pretty Waiter: _**For sure. See you tomorrow, Cyrus Xx**_

TJ’s body fell backward to meet his comfortable mattress. He locked his phone and let it rest against his chest, near his heart. That was really happening. A cheesy smile made its way onto his lips and he felt his face becoming hotter.  
He was going on a date with the pretty waiter.

* * * *

The little bell rang when TJ opened the front door of the Spoon. His eyes immediately caught the pretty waiter, Cyrus. He was still wandering around the restaurant, taking orders with his little notebook. Was he imagining it or did he look way more stunning than the last time he saw him?

Hesitantly, he headed toward the counter where Cyrus was currently standing. When he was standing in front of him, the boy still hadn’t noticed him.

“Could I order a date with a pretty boy?” He asked, feeling a wave of confidence take over his vocal cords.  
Cyrus looked up and his cheeks immediately became red. But then, he started smiling shyly.  
“It’s free for you.” He took off his blue apron. “It’ll be ready in five minutes.”  
TJ bit his lip as he watched the brunet enter the back room without breaking the eye contact.

He could not believe this was happening.

As soon as Cyrus was back, his hand took TJ’s and dragged him out of the restaurant. In his left hand, he was holding a wicker basket which the writer figured was full of food. TJ wasn’t sure he said one single word during the whole journey, too lost into the heat of the brunet’s hand mixed with his own. But when the heat eventually vanished and the coolness of the breeze touched his palm, he came back to reality.  
Cyrus had brought him in a park. It was really cute, and he was quite surprised there were no children around, playing on the swings or on the slide. The grass wasn’t too high nor too law and a few flowers were blooming here and there.

“Do you like it?” Cyrus’ voice asked.  
“I love it,” TJ smiled, turning his head to look at the boy who was already sat down crossed-legs on a red and white blanket. He hesitated a second before joining him, sitting right next to him. “I didn’t even know this place existed. I should come here to write; it’ll probably help with the inspiration.”  
“You write?” Cyrus opened the basket and spread different kinds of food on the material.  
“Yeah, you could say it’s my job,” he laughed. “You brought all this?”  
“I didn’t really know what you liked, so…”  
“No, no, it’s perfect! Don’t worry.” TJ put a genuine smile on his lips which seemed to reassure the brunet.

As the date went by, both men noticed Cyrus’ theory was false. It was not awkward at all, and neither were they. They were eagerly talking, discovering interesting and less interesting things about each other while eating what the waiter brought. They happened to have a lot in common—and not only their love for baby taters and coffee. TJ found out Cyrus was studying to be an English teacher and was working at the Spoon to gain money. Even though he liked that job, he didn’t want to do it his entire life. He also discovered they were both listening to the same kind of music, reading the same kind of books. In the writer’s eyes, it wasn’t an accident if they found each other, and he liked thinking they were meant to be.

“Do you mind if I smoke a cigarette?” Cyrus asked after swallowing a bite of salad.  
“No, go for it.” Cyrus took out a cigarette from his pocket and put it between his lips. TJ caught himself staring at them moving against the paper. “You know it could kill you, right?”  
“I know,” the brunet casually answered.  
“Then why don’t you try to stop smoking?”  
“I don’t know.” Cyrus just shrugged and leaned backward, resting his weight on his forearms.  
“Can I ask you a question?” TJ asked, shifting his position to sit on his calfs.  
“Yeah?” He blowed the smoke, creating a small grey cloud above his head.  
“What’s your favourite food?” The boy saw a smirk appearing on his lips. “Don’t laugh! It’s a very important question. So?”  
“I’d say strawberries.”  
“Strawberries?” It was now TJ’s turn to chuckle.  
“What’s so funny?”  
“I don’t know. Strawberries are soft and sweet while cigarettes are toxic and poison. It’s a bit ironic that you do both.”

Cyrus sat up straight and looked at TJ who was fidgeting with a strawberry he took from the basket. He finished his cigarette and put it out, blowing the last splash of smoke. His fingers found the fruit and took it away from the boy to bring it to his own mouth. TJ’s head shot back up and his teeth took his lip between them. Their eyes seemed lost in each other. Suddenly, the writer brought himself closer to the brunet. Then, he leaned in. Slowly at first, as if to be sure Cyrus was okay with it. He totally was. When their lips met, TJ could swear there were fireworks in the sky. Or maybe that was only his stomach. The taste of the strawberry the waiter just ate landed on his own tongue, mixed with the smell of the cigarette he smoked.  
Deep down, TJ knew that, from now on, every time he would eat a strawberry or smell someone else’s cigarette, it would remind him of that moment he was sharing with Cyrus.  
Strawberries and cigarettes would always taste like him.


End file.
